Make or Break
by ke0212
Summary: This is a short story set in Series 7 after the end of Episode 7 and before Episode 8. SPOILER Alert for series 7.
1. Chapter 1

**After watching the scene early in Episode 8, when Louisa asked Martin if they were still on for dinner and Martin gave her an agenda, many of us wondered when Martin and Louisa had arranged said dinner. Here are one writer's thoughts as to how that dinner to discuss the state of their marriage may have come about.**

 **Chapter One**

"Oh James, what are we going to do about your Daddy?" I stood over the cot where my beautiful son, our beautiful son, lay sleeping, and as I had so many nights over the past several months, tried to make sense of the troubles that plagued his father and me. I thought that we had made progress over the past month in our couple's therapy, but now Dr. Timoney would no longer be able to help us. Martin had sent her off to hospital and it would be some time before her brain had healed enough for her to resume her practice.

When Martin dropped me at the door of the surgery, after we had seen Dr. Timoney off in the ambulance, he told me that he couldn't go on living like this anymore, and that we needed to decide what we were going to do about James and everything. I immediately assumed that he was trying to say that we should split up. I told him that I understood and that perhaps Dr. Timoney was right, that we weren't accepting things. We left it there and said good-night, but I couldn't help thinking about that brief conversation. Over and over I replayed it in my mind. Dr. Timoney said that sometimes what we want, which is to reconcile, isn't what we need. I was pretty sure that she was hinting that we should divorce. In our session, Martin was adamant that we should stay together and he assured me as we were leaving her office that she just wanted us to make a list and that we needed to see the process through. But his words last night made me think otherwise.

The list, which I still hadn't made, was supposed to itemize the possible advantages of being single. I had tried to make that list, but hadn't been able to come up with anything. I'm sure there must be some advantages, but really? What could they be? No more clashes with Martin about the dinner menu, no more disapproving looks from Martin about the mess in the kitchen or my clothes lying on the bedside chair, no more frustration about his obsessive need to tidy things up? Those are the kinds of disagreements all married couples have, aren't they? Not something over which to divorce.

I wondered if Martin had made his list yet. He hadn't a few nights ago when we discussed it. Martin was right, we needed to discuss everything and make a decision as to how we will go on. I finally decided that I should invite Martin over for dinner so we could have that talk, no matter how painful that conversation might be. It was time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Unfortunately, both of us had been busy all the next day and I hadn't had a chance to talk to Martin about dinner the next night. He was due to arrive at any minute to give James his bath and put him to bed as he did most nights. James had been even hungrier than usual in the past week and he was still eating dinner. He was happily munching on a piece of chicken grinning at me. I put my elbow on the table and rested my chin in my hand and sighed gazing at his happy toddler face; I repeated the question I had posed the night before, "James, what are we going to do about your Daddy?"

Oops, wrong word. James loves his daddy and now his attention was diverted from his dinner. "Da Da" He turned toward the kitchen door and started to bounce up and down in his chair, "Da Da ... Da Da?"

I reached over and turned his attention back to his dinner. "No, not yet, but he will be here soon and you need to finish your dinner." I nodded my head at him whilst I placed a few more pieces of cut up chicken and peas onto his plate. He proceeded to gobble them down, and then looked up at me grinning "mo, mo". Of course one of his first words would be "more". He's always hungry, but then he's destined to grow up to be a big, hefty fellow just like his father. As I poured more milk into his sip cup and gave him more chicken and peas and some of the pasta I had cooked for myself, I thought about his father, my husband, the man I still loved despite our differences and I sighed again. I hoped we would be able to come to a decision to stay together although I still had fears that he would leave me. As much as I disliked the therapy, Dr. Timoney had started me thinking about why I always left Martin and why I was still afraid to let him fully back into my life now. What if he were to leave me? Something was wrong before I left for Spain; and as far as I knew Dr. Timoney hadn't helped Martin resolve his haemophobia issues yet. He could push me away again. It was a risk inherent in reuniting with him, but I was pretty sure I was ready to take that risk. I don't think the status of his haemophobia therapy is something we should address tomorrow night, but we do need to discuss it soon.

Just then, Martin tapped on the door and opened it. As he walked through, he tipped his head in my direction, "Good evening. Is James ready for his bath?"

Hearing his father's voice, James turned and beamed, raising his arms to Martin, "Da Da, up"

"Good evening James," Martin greeted his son and glanced down at his supper tray, "It doesn't appear you have finished your dinner."

James looked down at his tray, up to his Dad, and then back down and swept the unfinished dinner from his tray and reached up to Martin, "Da Da up".

"James! That was completely unnecessary." Martin gave James a stern look and moved to the sink to get a towel to clean up the peas and pasta that were now strewn across the kitchen floor.

"Let me do that Martin. You tend to James." I took the towel from Martin's hands and tore a few sheets off the paper towel roll as well.

"Very well." Martin sighed. James gripped the sides of his tray and peered down at the mess on the floor and then up at Martin and me, and then back down at the floor, kicking his feet and giggling. "Unacceptable", Martin muttered under his breath scolding his son as he loosened the straps securing James to his seat. He picked him up gingerly and carried him over to the sink where he shook off the food scraps that had fallen on James' clothing. I watched as Martin carried James at arms' length out of the kitchen and to the stairs for his bath. All the while James was giggling and babbling on and on as if he were telling Martin all about his day. It was such a scene of happy domesticity that it made me smile. I would miss that if we couldn't work things out. Still smiling, I set about cleaning the kitchen because I wanted it to be neat and tidy when Martin came back down after putting James to bed. I didn't want him to find anything amiss so he would be agreeable to accepting my invitation to dinner the next night.

When Martin came back down about an hour later, I was sitting at the table with my school papers spread out in front of me.

Martin reported, "He's settled. I think he was tired. He fell asleep as I was reading 'Goodnight Moon." I honestly don't know where you find these books. 'Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere'. What drivel and now I've read it to him so many times, I have it memorized. Hmmph."

"Martin, it's a classic children's story. All children love that book."

"Mm." He paused and looked down at the papers laid out on the table. "Well I'll be off then, if there's nothing else." He paused for a moment; I guess he had noticed me fidgeting, biting my lip, always signs that something was amiss.

"Well, there was something." I hesitated, wanting to ask, yet afraid because it might mean the end of our marriage if the dinner didn't work out.

"Yes?" He had turned to go, but now returned and stood attentively in front of me. I love how he always gives me his full attention.

"Yesterday, you said it was time for us to decide what we are going to do. We won't be able to continue therapy with Dr. Timoney." I peered up at him trying to assess his mood.

"Mm," he sat down warily, "Is that what you wanted to discuss?"

"Well, not now, obviously. I'm in the middle of the school budget." I waved my hands nervously over the paperwork I had spread out on the table. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night and we could discuss it then."

"Ah." He nodded his head up and down, "Yes, after James' bath?"

I thought to myself that it would be best not to have James as a distraction. "Perhaps I could have Janice bathe James and put him to bed so we have time to talk. Come over around 7?"

"Yes. Can I bring something?"

"No need. I'm sure I can come up with something of optimal nutritional value." I grinned at him. I was teasing him, repeating one of his favourite expressions, but he didn't catch the reference.

"Mm. Yes." He looked at me with that pained expression he seemed to have far too often lately, so I reached over and rumpled the sleeve of his suit and grinned. "I'm joking. I promise no scotch eggs."

"Good." It was obvious he was never going to understand my teasing. He stood back up, "Goodnight then."

"Wait." I stood up and stepped in his direction. "Have you made your list?"

"My list?"

"The one Dr. Timoney wanted us to make ... you know ..." I didn't want to say the words out loud, to make him think that I wanted to discuss the advantages of separating. I had never been able to think of any advantages to being single, to remain separated from Martin, but it would be good to hear his ideas.

"Ah ... no ... not yet. Have you finished yours? You were working on it the other night."

"No. It's hard to think of something isn't it? I was going to suggest you bring yours, but since neither of us has come up with anything, there's no need." I smiled hoping he would catch the meaning in my eyes.

He stared hard at me and seemed to pull himself up straighter. "Right. See you tomorrow night."

"Yes. Good night." I watched him go toward the door, still walking slowly and carefully. He turned as he reached the door, with a troubled look on his face, pausing as if he expected me to say something. I looked at him puzzled. But then he opened the door and left. I could barely stand to see him so sad; I wanted to run after him and give him one of our assigned hugs, and then lead him back inside. But I wasn't sure he would want that. Sometimes ... often ... I can't tell what he is thinking.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Restlessly I turned onto my side to look at the clock. The numbers glared at me bright red, 2:35am. God, would this night never end? Two nights ago I had told Louisa that I couldn't go on living like this, hoping she would tell me to move back home, but what did she say? "I understand. Maybe Dr. Timoney was right, maybe we aren't accepting things" All I could think was ... No,no I don't want Dr. Timoney to be right ... but instead, I told her that it was time for us to work out exactly what we were going to do, with James and everything. And she agreed, said okay, then she said goodnight, turned around and went into the house. As I watched her go, it was all I could do to restrain myself from running after her, to going back into the house and begging her to take me back. We had both been so encouraged and hopeful when Dr. Timoney asked us to meet with her that night, saying she had an excellent idea for us. I had thought Louisa might be ready to have me back, but no she just closed the door.

I just want this miserable situation to be over.

I went home, prepared dinner and did the washing up. I was trying to read my BMJ, but couldn't concentrate. I looked around the hovel I currently called home; as i told Louisa, I really could no longer go on living like this. I needed to be back in my home with my family. More than once I had indicated to her that I wasn't happy with our current living arrangement and her response has always been a sad look and a shrug of her shoulders. That was until this last time when she said Dr. Timoney might be right – again with a sad expression and what I perceived to be a look of defeat. As I thought about our current impasse, I resolved to push Louisa to set a time when we could make some decisions as to how we could live together ... assuming that she is amenable to our cohabiting again.

I was surprised when she brought the subject up last night, asking me to come to dinner so we could discuss our relationship and where we were headed. She didn't say it out loud, but I expect we will decide whether we will make-up and resume our lives together or break-up for good. Either way, there were practicalities that we would need to discuss.

What would we do if we couldn't reconcile. Perhaps we could find another therapist and continue the process that we had started. I don't want that, but it's one of the many thoughts that keeps churning through my mind as I lie here not sleeping. If I don't get any rest tonight, there's no telling how irritable I will be tomorrow and I need to be clear headed when we meet for dinner. With that thought, I roll onto my back and try to relax every muscle in my body, breathing deeply and clearing my mind. "Concentrate on your breathing. In and out, in and out". It's not working. My mind returns again and again to the image of my wife, sad and unhappy.

We were right when we called off our marriage the first time. It was clear I was never going to make her happy, and I haven't. But there have been times lately when she looked happy. Her brilliant smile when I came to take her to dinner two weeks ago gave me hope that we might reconcile that very night ... but no ... that tosser Danny interrupted us and our chance to restore harmony to our marriage that night was over. Last night, she seemed quite cheerful when she asked me to dinner, promising there would be healthy food on order; perhaps she is as hopeful as I that our discussion will end well. I was heartened that she had not been able to compile that list of advantages to being single that Dr. Timoney had assigned. That must mean she wants to stay together. It gives me hope.

I turn again to the clock, 3:10. I'm getting nowhere trying to relax, might as well just get up and try to organize my thoughts. Perhaps I should make an agenda for our dinner. If I write it all down, perhaps then I can get some sleep, not that there's much of the night left.

I put on my dressing gown and climb down the ladder to the main living area, thinking again to myself how hazardous it would have been for Louisa and James to live here. I turn on the light and ponder the clock sitting on the windowsill, the one Ruth found in Auntie Joan's barn and which I had managed to get working just before Louisa had her accident. I can't believe that my mother thought she had the right to take it with her when she left Portwenn the last time. I was willing to let it go, but Aunt Ruth was livid when she heard about it. Joan had left the farm and its contents to her; how dare my mother think she was entitled to take the clock? She immediately contacted her London solicitor to work with his Lisbon connections to track my mother down and have the clock returned. I still grieve at the loss of a mother that I never had, but I now understand that it was never my fault.

I pull out a sheet of paper and start a list, not the list Dr. Timoney wanted us to make up, but a list of topics we should discuss at dinner tonight, an agenda if you will.

1\. Accommodation – this is the most important item. If we stay together, do we continue to live at the surgery or do we find another home in the village? Given the difficulty we recently had in finding a second cottage in the village, it likely will be difficult to find a new home straight-away, but it may be something we wish to consider in the future. If we don't stay together, then Louisa will have to find a new home. I can't stay in this hovel and it is awkward for her to be living in the surgery when I am working there, but not also living there. I'm sure Louisa will have strong opinions on the matter.

2\. Childcare – the current nanny seems to be adequate, but we need to find a backup provider if she decides to leave the village. James needs consistency in his life. I am surprised that Louisa is not more concerned about this. I wonder if Michael will be discharged from the army anytime soon. It would be ideal to have him back.

3\. Housework – If we stay together, we need to come to an agreement about the state of the house. I can tolerate a certain amount of chaos; in fact I welcome it just to have Louisa and James back in my home. But ... there is a limit. What level of order can we both tolerate? There is the basic issue of kitchen sanitization, storage for James' toys, Louisa's habit of leaving her clothing lying about, and order in the lavatory, all manner of things upon which we need to agree. Perhaps this is a topic where I should tread lightly. If things are going well, I don't want to muck it up on this point.

4\. Meals – I remember Louisa making a comment about eating too much fish. I am certainly open to eating other things, as she is well aware. I would be happy to limit our fish intake to two or three meals a week. And, as a compromise, I will tolerate her eating the occasional chocolate biscuit as long as she doesn't give any to James.

I get up and walk over to the sink to fill a glass with water and lean against the counter. Why is marriage, why is life so difficult? Wasn't that what Louisa asked after James' birthday party ended in disaster? Sometimes I think the villagers have it in for us. Ah... best not to dwell on them ... back to my list.

5\. Holidays – Before her accident and surgery, Louisa said she wanted us to get away for a few days, just the three of us. I feel an obligation to my patients, but perhaps I can work something out with Chris Parsons to arrange for a locum so we can take a long weekend or even a week away from the village to spend a holiday together upon occasion. I hate to think of the damage a locum could wreak on my patients, but if it is not for too long a period, perhaps it would work out, and it might make Louisa happy and that is my long term goal.

6\. Children – should I add this to my list? I think Louisa would like to have another child, although she is reaching an age where that might be problematical. I have to admit I was surprised at how quickly I formed a bond with James. It's not just a responsibility of care, but true affection that I feel for our son. I should let Louisa know that I am open to the possibility of another child in our life... and that brings us back to item number 2, childcare. It would be imperative to find more reliable childcare if we were to have another child. And we might also need to find larger accommodation ... back to item number 1.

Have I covered everything? "Everything." That's a loaded word. I'm sure that Louisa will have other items she will want to add to the list. I look over to the clock; how can it be six o"clock already? How can the night be over? That's one of the problems with this cottage, no light. I hadn't even noticed dawn creeping up on the village over an hour ago. No sleep whatsoever, not an auspicious start to the day.

I'll rewrite this list and hand it to her this morning. I need to make sure she understands that it's not comprehensive, that she can change it however she likes. At least this nightmare will be over one way or another by the end of the day. Maybe I should bring her flowers; that might help my cause. Yes, I'll do that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

After Martin left last night, I gathered up the school budget paperwork. It could keep another day or two. What was important was planning our evening tomorrow. Discussing what we each wanted from our marriage wasn't going to be easy. As I have discovered in the few weeks spent in therapy with Dr. Timoney, neither of us is very good at stating exactly what is on our minds. At our last session ... well the one before Dr. Timoney lost it ... Martin emphasized to her that the whole point in our meeting with her was that we didn't want to separate. I had not been certain how he felt about us until that moment.

When Martin said that we needed to decide what we were going to do about James and everything, I thought he had changed his mind and he felt that we needed to decide how to move on in our separate lives, so I told him that I understood, that maybe we weren't accepting the inevitable. But now I don't think that's what he meant at all. I really need to ask him to clarify what he means when he makes these ambiguous statements. I think he wants us to be back together as much as I do. Yes, I think to myself, I do want him back, and yes I am afraid he will shut down on me again like he did before my accident, but I think I understand him better now and I want us to try, at least.

So now, I need to plan this meal. What would Martin like? Nothing too heavy; seven o'clock is a little late for Martin, but we can't eat earlier because of James. Let's see, there's always fish; hopefully including fish in our meal will prove to him that I'm not completely opposed to fish. And we should have fresh vegetables. I have some asparagus in the fridge that I didn't cook tonight so that would be good. Hmm ...I think I read somewhere that asparagus is considered an aphrodisiac; maybe that could help move things along if all goes well. A girl can hope, can't she? They certainly have the right shape.

Suddenly I have a very naughty thought and I grin to myself ... I wonder if there are any other vegetables that have this power. I pull out my tablet and search. Hmmm – aubergines – of course, and they are the right shape as well, both phallic and ovoid, although it won't be obvious after they're prepared. I don't see courgettes on the list, but they have a provocative shape as well. "Oh Louisa, you are so naughty!", I can't help thinking with a grin. So here we are then, asparagus, some aubergines and courgettes. Maybe I should throw in a few new potatoes, carbohydrates for extra energy just in case we need it.

I'll roast them all in the cooker with just a little olive oil and salt and a dash of black pepper, maybe get a red pepper as well for a dash of colour and optimal nutritional value, as Martin always likes to say. I'll pick up a loaf of whole meal bread from the bakery, and some cheese and apple for after. I start to put the list together; perhaps I can get Janice to do most of the shopping for me, which will leave me time to freshen up and look my best before Martin arrives. I really think it will work and I smile to myself. He won't be going back to that abysmal cottage. I just know it.

As I go to close down the tablet, I spy one more food considered a sexual powerhouse ... salmon. Well that settles it, salmon for the main course. The omega -3's are supposed to elevate serotonin levels putting you in a good mood, always helpful when dealing with Martin Ellingham. He doesn't stand a chance, I think to myself hopefully.

Planning this meal is getting to be too much fun and I find myself squirming excitedly in my chair. Of course if Martin knew what I was thinking, he'd be aghast, blushing as he considered what I had in mind and I can just hear him spluttering. " _Louisa, there is more at stake here than our sex life. Focus on what's really important."_ I know he enjoys it as much as I do, but he'd be right. Of course there is more at stake than our sex life, but I  need physical affection, much more than Martin does I'd wager, and I need to tell him. I had enjoyed the homework assignment Dr. Timoney had given us, when we had to embrace three times a day. Too bad we stopped that when she gave us a new assignment. As I think about it, I decide that physical affection is going to be one of my conditions for reuniting, that I want to resume the three hugs a day routine, three at a minimum. Maybe then he will understand how important it is to me.

As I settle into bed that night, I hug myself in anticipation. As I told Dr. Timoney when we first met, I am sure Martin loves me... and I am sure he wants to get back together. We just need to tell each other how we feel. Tomorrow night he will be back where he belongs ... with me.

THE END

 **Author's note: Of course we all know that's not how the night ended, although we are certain the next night ended that way. I hope you enjoyed this little foray into the psyches of Martin and Louisa Ellingham. Here's hoping for Series 8!**


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